Mine, Yours
by isumi 'kivic
Summary: Because Misaki is his. Always been and forever his. Highschool!AU, a birthday present for Casketta. Saruhiko/Misaki, Reishi/Saruhiko, one-sided Reishi/Mikoto and Seri/Reishi.


Title: Mine, Yours.

Fandom: [K], Project K

Characters/Pairings: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki, Munakata Reishi/Fushimi Saruhiko, one-sided Munakata Reishi/Suoh Mikoto. Implied Yatogami Kuroh/Isana Yashiro. Appearances by Awashima Seri, Totsuka Tatara, Kusanagi Izumo and Kushina Anna.

Disclaimer: [K] does not belong to me, nor do I make any profit out of this work.

Warnings: unbeta-ed, grammar errors ahoy, OOC-ness abound. This does not take place at the same universe as my previous high school AU. Again, I'm aboard Saruhiko/Misaki pairing, so that's how this is going to end.

A/N: A birthday present for snarkyswordsman on tumblr, who once requested another high school AU. I'm not quite satisfied with this, but I'm already one day late so I apologize if this disappoints. ;_; Keep being fabulous, Saru, dear, because you are awesome. :D

**A [K] Project Fanfiction**

_Mine, Yours_

The cut on his cheek stings.

"That's pretty nasty," Totsuka comments as he watches Misaki dab alcohol onto the wound. Misaki has this pinched look on his face, anger and exasperation flaring like the blazing fire consuming his whole family six years ago. "How many people did you fight with today, Saruhiko-kun?"

"Don't call me that," Saruhiko mutters and shifts, winces when the movement jars his dislocated shoulder. Misaki frowns; Saruhiko can practically feel his protectiveness coming in waves. He scowls, chooses to protest to divert Misaki's attention from his wounds, "Misaki, ow. Don't be so rough."

Misaki is stupid though. He doesn't ever do what Saruhiko wants. "How many?" he presses instead, slapping a plester on Saruhiko's cheek with a notable force that really makes Saruhiko wince from that. He levels him a glare, but Misaki doesn't ever flinch from that anyway, so Saruhiko clicks his tongue and answers lowly, "four."

"You should've called me."

_I would have if you hadn't been so busy with Mikoto-san_ are the words he swallows back even before they forms in his tongue. They taste bitter, like the green vegetables Totsuka keep trying to sneak into his lunch. Instead, he averts his eyes and says, "it wasn't that bad."

His eyes meet Anna's. He sees the sad look in her eyes; damn psychic probably reads his mind. Saruhiko doesn't usually mind her; Anna never says a word about the things she picks up from other people's head, but at times like this, her ability makes him feel like he's so easy to read, and he hates that.

What is Mikoto-san's cousin doing here today, anyway?

"Mikoto," Anna says, and for a second Saruhiko thinks she's read his mind again, but then Misaki says "ah, Mikoto-san!" in this beaming voice, and just like that, the hatred he keeps pushing down licks up his throat, burning hot.

"Oh, how unusual," Totsuka says brightly. "I thought you skipped class, King."

Mikoto grunts something Saruhiko can't make out, and then looks straight at him. Saruhiko freezes, wrenches his eyes away and turns to Misaki, watches the previous anger and protectiveness melt away into admiration and something too close to infatuation.

He goes home alone after Mikoto sets his shoulder back, because Misaki wants to watch the baseball game with the others and Saruhiko can't stand him calling Mikoto relentlessly.

-o0o-

It goes like this:

"We're going to watch the game together," Misaki says. "You're coming, right?"

"I have homework." Saruhiko answers. "I'm going home."

-o0o-

It is about five days later that the same people who gave him split lips and cuts on cheeks and a dislocated shoulder give him a weary gaze, murmurs amongst themselves but never making a move to get back at him.

"Serves them right," Misaki says. He has a black eye and purple bruises on his collarbone, and is now cracking his knuckles. "It's revenge from HOMRA."

"You beat them up," Saruhiko states blandly; there's that warmth in his chest, molten liquid that spreads to the tips of his fingers. He wants to take Misaki's face into his hands, wants to run a finger on those bruises, wants to kiss the black eye, wants to see Misaki's eyes on him and only him and no one else.

Because Misaki is his. Always been and that's just how things should be.

Misaki grins and shrugs. "You should've seen Mikoto-san in action. He put a fucking hole on the damn wall, and then they were running away shitting themselves."

"Oh," Saruhiko says, the warmth freezing into ice needles, prickling his insides like they're about to poke out of his skin. He scratches his HOMRA tattoo, imagines the ice needles breaking the skin there and marring it. He feels better.

-o0o-

He doesn't really need to study, not when his brain decides that reading test materials just once is enough to ace his year. Misaki claims it's unfair, because Misaki will never pass his exams if it isn't for the combined effort of Kusanagi and Totsuka and Saruhiko himself to tutor him. Saruhiko likes to think that Misaki understands better when he's the one tutoring him, though, simply because it's one of the things left in which he can have Misaki's whole attention undivided, and Saruhiko doesn't share well.

In short, school is pretty boring. So he skips classes, goes napping at the roof or the abandoned shack behind the gym that HOMRA uses as a basecamp, crouches behind the bush next to Misaki's class to bother Misaki (who sits next to the window and welcomes Saruhiko's distraction a lot), or plays ridiculous games on his school-issued PDA.

Then one day Awashima Seri snags him aside; all poised and cold efficiency, and says, "we need your help."

Saruhiko thinks, why the fuck not.

-o0o-

At first, Saruhiko thinks he's too old for a crush. Also, there's always Misaki, so he doesn't really ever think about it.

Munakata Reishi looks up from his puzzle to smile at him when he follows Awashima into the room, then says, "do you have what it takes to be one of us, Fushimi-kun?"

Saruhiko clicks his tongue because Munakata sounds like an old man.

Munakata nods. "I trust you," he says, like Saruhiko hadn't been one of the problematic students who skip classes in favor of breaking someone else's nose, and he stares into Saruhiko's eyes like Saruhiko's the only one he needs at this moment. There's confidence and strength in his hand when he takes Saruhiko's hand to shake; almost like he's telling Saruhiko that he knows exactly how to handle him. "You won't ever be bored here."

Saruhiko is falling so fast, it's not even funny.

-o0o-

The punch from Misaki leaves a deep purple bruise on his cheek for two weeks. Saruhiko laughs because yes, Misaki is finally looking at him. Him and no one else.

"Watch me, Mii-saa-kiiii," he drawls when the world stops spinning, and sees Misaki before him, wide-eyed with hurt and disbelief and anger. The fist that just connected to his cheek shakes hard, which only serves to make Saruhiko laugh even more. This. This Misaki, standing before him, only has eyes on him and feels only for him, and isn't that perfect?

He thinks of Munakata, of the face he will make when he sees Saruhiko tomorrow, and laughs even more.

-o0o-

The student council isn't so bad, in the end.

There are still too many paperwork to Saruhiko's liking, but at least Awashima doesn't bother him if he skips classes. He still naps on the roof, or sits outside Misaki's window from time to time. He usually just watches, but occasionally he'll tap on the window, or slips in notes in scraps of paper to taunt Misaki until he's completely distracted and gets yelled at by the teacher.

"Misaki hates those lessons anyway, don't you?" Saruhiko drawls when Misaki storms into his class later, furious and annoyed. "You've always been happy to be distracted from them."

"I don't want a Traitor under my window." Misaki bites out. Saruhiko smirks, excitement threatening to burst out of his chest as he chuckles lowly. Misaki glares like Saruhiko has committed the most unforgivable sin in the world, and isn't that just _right_? This is how it should be. This is how Misaki should see him—a single-minded focus that narrows his world down to Saruhiko and only Saruhiko, because Misaki has always been his and Saruhiko simply doesn't share.

Totsuka joins him one day under Misaki's window, fruit milk in both hands, camera hanging on his chest. He says, "Saruhiko-kun, are you eating your vegetables?"

"What." Saruhiko says eloquently, because what. Then he sobers up and scowls. "Stop calling me that."

Totsuka puts one of the fruit milk in the floor before him, like he's coaxing a wounded animal to come out. Saruhiko eyes him warily, because sometimes Totsuka can be into really bizarre hobbies, but even he can't think of any bizarre hobbies having anything to do with fruit milk.

"Yata forgets that you're not drinking his milk anymore," Totsuka says, and Saruhiko hears the implication. _Misaki forgets that you're not by his side anymore. Misaki forgets that he doesn't have to buy fruit milk for lunch anymore because Saruhiko isn't going to eat with him._ Old habits die hard, after all, and Saruhiko can't remember when it was that Misaki started buying fruit milk for himself and forces Saruhiko to drink it.

He takes the fruit milk and crawls out of his hiding, leaving Totsuka under the window alone.

-o0o-

"Do you like fruit milk, Fushimi-kun?" Munakata asks whe he finds Saruhiko pokes on the fruit milk carton on his desk later.

Saruhiko forces back the flush threatening to take over his face, manages to respond nonchalantly, "not particularly?" He pauses, then, for good measure, tosses the fruit milk into the nearby trash can.

Munakata makes a huming sound on the back of his throat. "Then what's your favorite?"

Saruhiko looks up, finds that Munakata hasn't even look up from his puzzle, but if he can see Saruhiko poking the fruit milk earlier, then he must have kept track of Saruhiko in his peripheral vision. The thought surprisingly makes his stomach curl in a pleasant way.

"I don't really have one," Saruhiko says.

Munakata looks up and smiles. "Have you tried this coffee shop just down the road?"

-o0o-

Turns out the coffee shop is a little hole-in-the-wall place, and it has the best brew Saruhiko ever tasted.

It feels a little like a date, coming here with Munakata. Saruhiko thinks how ridiculous it is that he has a crush on the student council president, of all people; who is both immensely popular and immensely terrifying. Then he thinks of Misaki, who would never even thought about bringing him somewhere that has no baseball or skateboard or video games or _Mikoto-san_, and wonders what Misaki would say if Saruhiko brings him here.

"I come here often when I'm in a bad mood," Munakata says, sipping his coffee in that elegant way that all the student council members have. Saruhiko thinks he hasn't quite had the same poise and elegance, but he'll get there. "You look like you could use a break."

"I would get more break if a certain student souncil president stop leaving your job to other people." Saruhiko says lazily. He's on his second cup of coffee, because the brew is just that good, and because Munakata says it's his treat. Saruhiko isn't about to refuse free good coffee. Also, again, because this feels a little like a date.

Munakata hides a smile behind the rim of his cup, like he knows what Saruhiko isn't saying, but Saruhiko likes to think he's not that easy to read. He taps on the table; once-twice-thrice, then says, "why are you taking me here?"

Munakata raises an eyebrow. "I can't take my attractive student council member out for coffee?"

Saruhiko isn't amused, so he clicks his tongue. "Do you take Awashima-senpai to places, too?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes not." Munakata places his cup back on the table, and Saruhiko catches him stealing a glance on the clock. "I like spending time with… interesting people."

There's a jingling sound from the door that signals a new patron has entered the shop, and Saruhiko leans back to glance at whoever it is. Then he freezes, because it's Mikoto who strolls in easily like he owns the place; Anna's small steps on his side, half-running as she tries to keep up with Mikoto's pace.

"Well, well," Munakata murmurs. "Look who decides to stop by."

There's a single-minded focus in Munakata's gaze as he silently follows Mikoto's figure taking a seat at the far corner of the shop; one that makes Saruhiko frown because he hasn't seen Munakata regard anyone with such look. "You knew that he comes here."

It isn't even a question.

Munakata's lips curl up into a sad smile. "I might have."

-o0o-

"If you're skipping classes," Awashima says in exasperation. "Could you not sit under another class' window and bother other student? The teachers are starting to complain."

Saruhiko sends her a sullen glare. "I only bother Misaki."

"When you skip class, please go somewhere people wouldn't see you."

He stops skipping class altogether, because what's the point of it if he can't bother Misaki anyway? Instead, he follows Misaki home whenever he catches him going home alone, which is a rare occurrence because HOMRA is fucking everywhere for some reason. But he takes the chances he gets, and sometimes, seeing Misaki make his way out of the school gate from the roof is enough.

-o0o-

"Here's our budget proposal for next year," Yatogami Kuroh says in a strict professional tone, handing him a stack of paper. The form on the front page says _Kendo Club Budget Proposal_. "If there's anything the student council feel like it should be cut down, do call me to discuss it."

Saruhiko clicks his tongue. How troublesome. "Can't you give this to Awashima-senpai in the student council office instead of coming to my class?"

Yatogami merely blinks. "Your class is on my way to the club. It would be a more rational choice to give it to you than having to go to the student council office, which just happens to be in another building." Of course his class is closer; Yatogami is in the same class as Misaki and that's just down the hall. Not a good enough reason to be so lazy about it, though. Something beeps, and Yatogami says, "excuse me," before taking out his PDA and answers the call.

Saruhiko takes a look at the papers, just to make sure that all the forms are properly filled out and he doesn't have to contact the kendo club for any missing form. He catches Yatogami's frown, then several phrases like "…why are you even there?" and "the next time you're skipping class, I will not tolerate it," and "if Neko doesn't show up today at club practice, I will slay you." Then Yatogami finishes his call and tells him, "Isana Yashiro asks me to tell you that he spotted Yata Misaki being surrounded on the nearby park."

"Surrounded?" Saruhiko raises an eyebrow.

Yatogami nods. "Punks from another school, it seems. HOMRA has a lot of enemies." He turns to leave, but then pauses and eyes Saruhiko. "Should I tell your—former friends? Or should I tell other members of student council?"

"No," Saruhiko says, a bit giddily at the thought of Misaki needing help and he's the only one who knows, at the thought that he's about to kill whoever dares to lay their hands on Misaki. Misaki is his—always been his, and only Saruhiko is allowed to do anything to him. "I'll take care of it."

He watches Yatogami leaves with brisk steps, then sends an email to Awashima to tell her that he's going to apprehend some punks.

Awashima's reply is none too pleased, but he goes anyway.

-o0o-

"Yatagarasu," they taunt, and Saruhiko punches the hell out of them.

One of them gets back up and charges forward, which Saruhiko neatly sidesteps before sending his knee onto his opponent's stomach. Then he whirls around to swing another punch, only to be barreled down by a boy twice his size, but Saruhiko rolls back to his feet easily, and kicks him on the balls. His opponent drops like a sack of sand, and Saruhiko kicks him once again for good measure before stepping in front of Misaki.

There are five others still standing, eyeing him cautiously.

"Not a good choice," Saruhiko drawls. "No one. Absolutely no one is going to touch Misaki. Why, do you ask? Because I'm the only one allowed to hurt him. To play him around." He chuckles, lets the delicious shiver runs through his body at the thought. "Aaaah, how exciting.. don't you think so? Miii-saa-kiii…?"

Misaki pants harshly, breath thick with anger and humiliation, and Saruhiko just wants to laugh harder. He's gone crazy, he thinks, but Misaki always makes him crazy, always sends him spiraling out of control, and Saruhiko is more than okay with that. He looks at Misaki, takes in the wounds, the blood, the split lips, the obvious knife wound on his arm, the way his legs shake as they try to keep him standing, and feels the excitement slowly fades into a molten fury.

Saruhiko doesn't forgive whoever tries to leave a mark on Misaki.

Misaki is his, always been and forever his. He's the only one allowed to touch, to leave his mark; except there's that goddamn HOMRA tattoo on the same spot as Saruhiko's, a mark of Mikoto, of someone who steals Misaki's attention away, and Saruhiko will be damned if he lets anyone else adds their mark on Misaki.

Then the fight begins. Saruhiko gains the upper ground at first, because he's stil fresh and the punks aren't—Misaki didn't go down without a hell of a fight. He's still out numbered, though, and he's about to lure the punks into the open, where the police might spot them, but then Misaki's on his side, sliding forward with his skateboard and bashes their opponents in the head, and it's like they've never separated, working together and fighting side by side the way they do long before Mikoto and HOMRA come into their lives, and for a moment, it feels perfect.

But then all their opponents are down, and Misaki turns at him, bloodied and bruised and so pale that Saruhiko thinks he's about to pass out, when the shorter boy charges towards him instead, throwing punches like he hasn't been hurt at all. Saruhiko manages to dodge at the last second, feels the thrill coursing through his whole being, and he laughs, because it is the best feeling, to face Misaki like this, to be the only one in Misaki's world, even when it means Misaki hates him more than anyone in the world—

"Fuck you, Saru!" Misaki hollers, and Saruhiko is so far gone that he doesn't notice the way it sounds too close to a sob.

-o0o-

"That looks nasty," Munakata comments on his black eye the next day, reaches out to touch his bruised cheek. Saruhiko nearly flinches, but Munakata holds his gaze, and it feels like his heart is plummeting straight into his stomach. "How many did you face?"

Saruhiko clicks his tongue, because it was not the punks who gave him the nasty wounds. "One."

"I see," Munakata looks thoughtful. "Suoh warned me about this when I took you in, but I didn't think much about it. Was Yata Misaki that good?"

It's weird how pride suddenly wells up his chest, because yes, Misaki is just that good when it comes to beating people up. "He's HOMRA's vanguard," he points out instead, and Munakata nods his agreement. His fingers are cool on Saruhiko's bruised skin, stroking almost too gently, and Saruhiko belatedly realizes that no one is in the office except them.

"Weren't you two close?" Munakata continues. "What is your relationship with him?"

It sounds like a trick question, but for some reason Saruhiko senses the seriousness in Munakata's light tone. He considers the question for a second, then clicks his tongue and goes with the simplest, most obvious conclusion: "Misaki is mine."

Because Misaki is his. Always been and forever his.

Munakata's gaze catches his, intense and understanding, like he's trying to convey something Saruhiko can't quite grasp, and just like that, the gap between them is closed, Munakata's lips pressing sharply against his, the force pushing his head back, only Munakata's other hand has come up to hold him in place, and Saruhiko can't not groan because goddamn, that's hot.

"And whom do you belong to?" Munakata mouths, teeth tugging his lower lip, and Saruhiko swallows those words, tastes bitter coffee on Munakata's tongue.

He doesn't answer—he doesn't know how to answer, but Munakata holds him close, breath and lips hot against Saruhiko's ear, touches him on all the right places until Saruhiko comes undone, and holds him afterward.

Saruhiko still thinks having a crush on Munakata is crazy, because there's still Misaki and there's always Misaki, and he knows there's someone Munakata looks at with the same single-minded focus he wishes Misaki would put on him, too.

-o0o-

Misaki seems entirely too happy to be with Mikoto, anyway.

"Mikoto-san!" is what he hears when he passes HOMRA's basecamp that afternoon, and he looks back to see Misaki running over to where Mikoto, Kusanagi and Anna are. They're sitting under a cherry blossom tree, lounging the morning classes away—Mikoto's head on Kusanagi's lap as Anna plays with marbles on Mikoto's belly. Totsuka comes out of the base and joins them while Misaki yells at the rest of the members to come out—and oh, they're taking pictures.

Saruhiko makes a face.

-o0o-

Isana Yashiro walks in at the worst possible moment.

Munakata's hand is still inside Saruhiko's pants, and the white-haired teen kind of just opens the door with that ridiculously cheerful face that reminds Saruhiko of Totsuka. Then he freezes when he realizes what Munakata and Saruhiko are doing, and his face goes red so fast it's not even funny.

"I'm sorry!" he squeaks. "I'll come back later—I didn't see anything!"

Unfortunately, his voice is also so loud that it only invites nearby people to stop and poke their curious head in. Nearby people in this case happens to be one Yata Misaki, who pauses in his steps and looks over Isana Yashiro's shoulder drom the doorway.

His eyes meet Saruhiko's.

"Oh," he says, like everything finally makes sense, before turning around and leaves. Isana Yashiro scrambles to follow him, closing the door with the loudest thud Saruhiko has ever heard.

"Ah," Munakata sighs into his ear, sounding exasperated. "What a mess."

-o0o-

Saruhiko is pretty sure Munakata is prepared to threaten to cut the Kendo Club budget if Isana Yashiro so much as to mention a word about what he saw.

But Yatogami seeks him out after school the next day, before he goes to the student council office, places himself on Saruhiko's way and says, "I came to talk about what Isana Yashiro saw yesterday."

"Your club's budget is going to suffer," Saruhiko tells him.

Yatogami scowls. "I came to give you his word that he's never going to speak of it. He only told Neko and I about it." The younger boy gestures at the shinai strapped on his back. "He's made me swear to knock him off with this if he ever brings the topic up."

Saruhiko's eyes narrow. "And you're going to stay silent, too?"

"I swore for him." Yatogami says solemnly, and it's no wonder the whole school nicknamed him the Black Dog. His loyalty to Isana Yashiro is ridiculous, only rivaled by Isana Yashiro's own twin sister, Neko. Saruhiko's heard rumors about those three; about how Yatogami's family have long become a protector of the Isana family, about how the rest of Isana family died in an airbaloon crash, about how possessive Neko is. "You may rest assured that Neko isn't going to say anything, either."

Then Yatogami lowers his gaze, like he's hesitating, and that's just weird. "What?" Saruhiko says, raising an eyebrow, and Yatogami stares back into his eyes.

"Today, in class—" he trails off, looking thoughtful, then shakes his head. "It's nothing. Thank you for your time."

-o0o-

On Monday, Suoh Mikoto strides into the student council office with Kusanagi Izumo and Totsuka Tatara.

Munakata visibly tenses, and Saruhiko feels the familiar spikes of jealousy when the president stares at Mikoto with such intensity he never sees before. "What is this, Suoh?"

"Hmm," Mikoto drawls lazily, pulls back a chair before Awashima's desk. Awashima hisses indignantly, not pleased with the way they barges into the office, but she stands her ground even when Kusanagi flashes her an apologetic smile. "One of your students is missing."

Totsuka turns at Saruhiko, and gives him a very sad smile.

Munakata sighs in exasperation. "That is outside our area of expertise, Suoh," he says as he rises to his feet, and how peculiar is that, that Munakata abandons his puzzle in favor of the so-called Red King. "You need to report to the police—"

Mikoto makes a sound like a long-suffering sigh. "I wouldn't have come to you if I could just report this to the police, Munakata."

Munakata frowns.

"He's someone who's really hard to pin down," Kusanagi finally speaks up, and that's probably for the best, or they aren't going anywhere. "And he's troublesome that way, but if we called up the police and made a big fuss about it, he'd hide himself even better."

Saruhiko freezes up completely, because he knows perfectly who they're talking about.

Munakata's gaze flicks over to Awashima, and she takes over gracefully. "Any trails?"

"There are some," Totsuka answers. "But it's scattered everywhere and we can't pinpoint his location. Of course, this could be just a tantrum and it'd end pretty soon if we just waited it out, but it's been a week, and the last time I saw him, Yata looks really harried." He glances at where Saruhiko sits straight on his chair, eyes sad and pitying, and Saruhiko hates that.

Munakata's lips are thin, but his gaze never leaves Mikoto even as he says, "the trails?"

Kusanagi chuckles. "When angry," he says, fondness thick in his voice, "Yata-chan beats up everything that gets in his way."

-o0o-

Six years ago, Saruhiko lost his whole family in a fire and gets taken by his Uncle who goes to work at five in the morning and comes home at two in the morning.

Five months later, on a sleepover night in his house, Misaki says, "if I promise to never leave you, would you stop being so depressed?"

Saruhiko says, "you can't. Everyone leaves."

"True." Misaki is silent for a long time, and above them are a clear night sky peppered with fading stars, because the city lights are immensely bright and stars just don't belong to the city. Down the street is a cacophony of people shouting, dogs barking, and music cranking up. They're on Saruhiko's room in the attic, squeezing themselves onto a small space on the roof accessible from the balcony, legs dangling and blankets tangling.

"I don't want you to leave either," Misaki says, looking thoughtful, and then brightens. "I know! Then I'll be yours."

"What," Saruhiko says, because he might only be ten, but he's a genius and the idea of owning Misaki, having him for the rest of his life—that sounds—well. Very tempting. He even scares himself a little bit at how much he wants that to happen.

"I'll be yours," Misaki repeats, like he's talking to a kindergarten kid, and Saruhiko should be insulted by that, but this is Misaki. Misaki gets to say anything, gets to do anything, gets to have anything, simply because he makes everything in Saruhiko's world brighter. "If you have me, then I can't go anywhere if you don't want me to. And if you leave, you're going to have to bring me along, because I'm yours."

"Are you an idiot?" Saruhiko says, but his hand over Misaki's tightens, and Misaki grins even brighter than the city lights.

-o0o-

Misaki's foster parents haven't been home for a long time.

Saruhiko knows, because he hates the couple. They're always away, to a country or another, on missions to raise money for famished children, and forget that they once adopted a boy from an orphanage. Misaki's been living mostly by himself even before he meets Saruhiko, so honestly, Saruhiko isn't too worried. Misaki knows how to take care of himself, he thinks, all he needs to do is to find him before he gets in trouble for skipping school one time too many.

He drops by Misaki's house every day after school just to check if he's home, but gets nothing. Awashima tells him to look at the places Misaki loves, Kusanagi suggests that they ask the people Misaki's beaten, but Saruhiko isn't even sure where to start. Misaki is too impulsive and stupid to predict, and Saruhiko's logic goes down the drain when it comes to him, anyway.

Munakata doesn't ever take his eyes away from Mikoto when they meet. Saruhiko understands why.

-o0o-

Having a crush is idiotic, especially when you already have someone.

So when Munakata slips a hand under his uniform, Saruhiko suppresses the twinge of heartache in his chest and says, "this isn't ever going to work out."

Munakata laughs breathlessly into his ear, then pulls away and straightens his uniform. He looks at Saruhiko, for once looking sad and regretful.

"It isn't." He agrees, glances at the chair where Mikoto had been sitting on this afternoon. "I'm sorry, Fushimi-kun."

It's always comes down to Mikoto, and it irritates Saruhiko more than anything, but he thinks he understands a little.

When Awashima comes in with more paperwork, Saruhiko catches her glancing at Munakata, biting her lips anxiously, but then her face returns to her usual unflappable expression, and approaches Munakata with all the poise and grace she has.

Saruhiko thinks he understands Awashima, too, a little. And admires her, a little.

-o0o-

He finds Misaki in a violent brawl in an alley next to a video game center not far from the station.

There are six thugs, all of them at least thrice Misaki's size. Misaki is holding a baseball bat, bruised and bloodied and angry, it's like watching him goes ablaze as he charges at the thugs. He takes down two of the thugs before he's thrown back at the wall with a sickening crunch. He gets back on his feet, spitting out blood as he tries to steady himself, then kicks one of the thugs right on the balls.

Saruhiko says, "they're fighting over here, sir!" and the thugs instantly scamper away, scared of the non-existant police he's called up.

Misaki scowls at him. "I was fucking winning."

"You'll die first." Saruhiko says reasonably, letting the corner of his lips curl up in a twisted smile and an arm reach out to snag Misaki's collar. "Besides, I should be the one you'd settle score with first, Mi-sa-kiiii."

Misaki snarls. "How convenient that you reminded me about that."

It takes a merciless kick on Saruhiko's guts before he can throw Misaki down. Misaki makes a choking noise at the impact, eyes rolling back, and then he's unconscious.

Saruhiko breathes through the horrible excitement and guilt, before pulling Misaki up and wordlessly carries him back home.

-o0o-

Back when there were only them, their conversations go like this:

"There should be a city foating in the sky," Misaki says absently. He's playing with Saruhiko's fingers, flicking them one by one, and their classroom is a buzzing white noise in the background.

"The force necessary to keep it afloat against gravity is almost impossible to generate right now," Saruhiko says lazily. "Are you an idiot?"

Misaki grins. "But when the world ends, there's nowhere to go when the damn earth opens up and those who fucking live in the core comes out to kill us."

Saruhiko's lips twitch a little. "Or asteroids raining down on earth and burning everything."

"There'll be aliens riding those fucking asteroids," Misaki points out, like that's the most important part Saruhiko should've mentioned. "There'll be no safe place, unless—unless we make the shit ourselves. The fucking floating city."

"I said that's impossible. There's a fucking difference between _floating permanently_ and _simply flying_. Do you have any idea how—"

"Come on, Saru," Misaki grins. "It's going to be just the two of us up there. We won't give a single fuck to whoever else trying to come aboard."

"You are an idiot," Saruhiko mutters, but goes to think about the law of gravitation and how to make a whole city floats in the air.

Then one day, Mikoto rescues them from random thugs and takes them under HOMRA, where Misaki starts laughing like an idiot.

The thing is, Saruhiko doesn't share well.

-o0o-

When they's halfway to Saruhiko's house, Misaki makes a noise on Saruhiko's back.

"wha't'fuck-?"

"Oh, you're up," Saruhiko replies, keeping his steps even. "Did you remember what happened?"

Misaki makes a confused noise, obviously only half-aware of his surroundings, but then his head drops onto Saruhiko's shoulder. His breath hits Saruhiko's neck, soft but hot, and his answer freezes Saruhiko in his steps.

"You left."

Then it's silence, Misaki's breathing goes even softer, falling back into sleep. Saruhiko stands there for a long while, feeling something too close to guilt curl unpleasantly in his stomach, and he chuckles, because it's ridiculous.

"You left me first," he accuses softly. "You're the idiot, Misaki."

-o0o-

"That goddamn student council president—" is the first thing Misaki says when he regains consciousness. Saruhiko wonders if Misaki's noticed that he's in Saruhiko's room, on Saruhiko's bed. "—do you love him, Saru?"

Saruhiko doesn't answer, because he doesn't know the answer himself. Misaki chuckles, rough and brittled at the edges, and continues, "I don't—how the fuck is he more important than us?"

_Us_ used to be him and Misaki. _Us_ now means Misaki and Mikoto and HOMRA.

Saruhiko clicks his tongue in irritation.

"Mikoto-san fucking saved us, didn't he?" Misaki presses. "Mikoto-san was there. He took us in, gave us a place to belong, and—"

"Why is it always Mikoto-san, Mikoto-san, Mikoto-san with you?!" Saruhiko growls, throws the book on his table down, listens to the loud thud it makes when it kisses the floor. "We're the only ones who can save our fucking selves, Misaki! Nobody else is going to give a fuck, nobody else is going to fucking save us!"

"Don't you dare fucking talk like that." Misaki's voice is low. "Or I'll bash some sense into that thick head of yours."

Saruhiko sneers. "You're broken, Misaki."

Misaki stiffens, and when he looks up, there's a distinct hurt swirling behind the anger in his eyes. "Fuck off."

"This is my house." Saruhiko lifts one leg and drops it on the edge of the bed, leaning down so that their faces are only separated by mere inches. Misaki glares up defiantly at him for a second, then pushes off the bed, but Saruhiko's hand grabs ahold of his chest faster and throws him back on the bed. The shorter boy makes a grunting sound, struggles to get free, but Saruhiko has no problem pinning him down when he's injured like that.

"Get the fuck off me." Misaki hisses.

Saruhiko laughs, bitter and disappointed, and says, "you're never going to understand, are you," then leans down to kiss him hard.

There's a second where Misaki freezes, another where Misaki struggles and bites, but then his hands are clutching Saruhiko's shirt, pulling him closer and he's growling, and fuck if that isn't the hottest sound Saruhiko has ever heard. He bites until he tastes blood, and Misaki is pressing hiself closer, closer, then he grinds his hips down, and Misaki howls.

"Fuck," Saruhiko says, because Misaki's body melts into his own easily, and they're moving together, fingers mapping new scars and wounds, leaving sensations that send shudders through their bodies. Misaki pants harshly into his ear, hands gripping Saruhiko's hips almost desperately, a steady stream of "fuck, fuck, fuck," that taste like liquid honey off his mouth, and Saruhiko gathers them in his tongue, swallows them down.

"_Mine_," he growls against Misaki's lips. Misaki sobs out his name, and Saruhiko's breath catches in his throat. Misaki wrenches his mouth away, gasping into his ear, hot and delicious and sad and painful and frantic.

"_Don't leave me."_

-o0o-

"You are an idiot," Saruhiko says, and thinks about floating cities and asteroids and aliens and people living in the core of earth.

"Shut the fuck up," Misaki grumbles, but he's grinning even as he slides down the street in his skateboard. "Come on, Saru, we'll be late for Totsuka-san's tom yam goong!"

-o0o-

In his dream, Misaki curls up against him, drops a soft kiss and stands up to leave.

"You don't ever tell me anything, dumbass," he says sadly. "And I'm an idiot. If you didn't say anything, how the fuck was I supposed to know how you feel?"

Misaki is gone when Saruhiko wakes up, but there's breakfast ready on the table, and a scrap of paper with a nearly unintelligible scrawl on it. It's Misaki's hand writing, so Saruhiko picks it up and reads it.

_Still yours_, it says. Saruhiko laughs, because he doesn't quite know how to react.

-o0o-

He pulls Misaki aside when he passes, traps him against the wall, and kisses him.

Misaki kisses back, then elbows him in the gut.

"Fucking Traitor," he grumbles, but there's a shade of red dusting his cheeks, even as he tries to stomp on Saruhiko's feet. Saruhiko smirks and kisses him again. Misaki tastes like pineapples.

"You're an idiot," he murmurs in Misaki's ear, enjoys the way Misaki shudders before letting him go. Misaki's eyes narrowed, and he surges up to kiss Saruhiko one last time.

I love you anyway, Saruhiko thinks, and for now, this is just fine.

-o0o-


End file.
